In The End
by FoundAgain
Summary: What if... Peyton wasn't shot during the school shooting? Would things have turned out any differently?


When Peyton Sawyer woke up that morning, the day felt no different from any other. The sun was shining, the grass was still green, her life still empty. The Tree Hill Ravens would be returning today, and she would be privy to her Best Friend greeting her heart's desire with a passionate, somewhat inappropriate, kiss. A kiss that her Best Friend was perfectly entitled to have.

When Peyton Sawyer left for school, she wasn't the only one that thought today would be like every other. Marvin "Mouth" McFadden wasn't looking forward to his math test. Antwon "Skillz" Taylor couldn't wait to see his girlfriend. Brooke Davis just wanted to see her boyfriend, Lucas Scott. Haley James Scott wanted to see her husband, Nathan Scott. No one really wanted to learn anything.

Jimmy Edwards wanted to die, and maybe along the way, bring the rest of the school along for the ride.

He tucked his gun into the interior pocket of his baggiest jacket. The one that made him even fatter. When those DumbFucks made fun of him today, they'd find out where all the bulk came from. When they teased him about his size, his glasses, his clothes, his grades, his social skills, he would let them. When they slammed his face into his locker and made horrible, awful, hollow, threats, he would allow it.

And when they walked away, he would pull out his gun, and everyone would scream.

They wouldn't see it at first, the jocks will walk away, laughing and slapping each other on the back, but the terrified eyes of other students will make them turn.

And Jimmy Edwards will blow their fucking heads off.

The images of the student body at his mercy flowed through poor Jimmy's mind as he walked into Tree Hill High that morning. He looked every person in the eyes, and made them a silent promise.

Today, you're going to wish you had died.

He saw the football jocks, and promised them they would get what they deserved. He saw the whorish cheerleaders, and promised them they would wish they had given him a second look.

He saw his buddy, Mouth, and promised him that he didn't mean it.

He saw Skillz, and promised that he wouldn't hurt him either.

He saw Peyton Sawyer, and she gave him a smile. Her eyes sparkled in his direction, even though she was talking to BitchBrooke. She nodded in his direction. She saw him, Jimmy Edwards, and she considered him a person. A guy with a soul, a guy with feelings. He promised that maybe, he wouldn't do it all...

Until those DumbFucks shouldered him into his locker.

Enough was enough.

---

"If I say that I Love You, will you hold it against me?"

Peyton was losing consciousness. How did a bullet wound in the leg become a mortal injury? People survived them all the time! How was this fair? Of all people, Peyton Sawyer deserved to avoid this tragedy the most. Yet here she was, the victim, telling the boy she loved that she did, in fact, love him.

And he realized that the reason that he kept saving her, the reason she was always on his mind, was because He Loved Her, and wasn't ready to let go of that yet.

"Peyton, I wish, more that anything, that he wouldn't have shot you," Lucas said, with the most feeling his voice could muster. All of his strongest desires, wants, needs, passions, love, went into that simple sentence.

She laughed a bit, in her delirious state, "Even Brooke, Luke? Or Keith? How about," she coughed more. It was getting more difficult to take a substantial breath.

"Peyt, relax," He started.

"No, Luke, how about your Mom? Would you rather she be lying here? What about you Lucas?" She breathed, struggling with every word. Trying to get her point across.

She wouldn't want anyone he loved to replace her.

She could make this sacrifice. For him.

"Peyton, I wish, I pray, I dream, that if we could go back, that Jimmy Edwards would hit someone else with that Goddamn Bullet."

---

"_I know I made the right decision, at the time."_

"_How?"_

"_In that world, Keith died, Peyton. That day ruined everything for us! It ruined Brooke and me! You didn't deserve it. Lily didn't have a father, my mother hated me. Hated me. You didn't deserve it. You of all people Peyt."_

"_Luke, couldn't you see, that in the end, it had to be me?"_

_---_

Jimmy Edwards pulled out his gun. The screaming started. He pulled the trigger.

Brooke Davis had been walking to class with her Best Friend. She saw Peyton look away, toward the one fat kid. Jim... something or other. Some Football Fags were harassing him, per usual. Peyton started to head toward that direction. Brooke pulled on her sleeve.

" P. Sawyer, don't," she warned, "We gotta get to class." Last thing she needed was a fist in her friend's face.

That was the least of her worries.

Jimmy Edwards pulled out his gun.

Brooke screamed, pointed, and turned to run away. Grabbing at Peyton, trying to make her do the same.

The screaming started.

The Football Fags turned, shock etched into their features. Who knew that this poor, lonely, confused kid would hold so much power over the self-proclaimed powerful?

He pulled the trigger.

Brooke felt something pinch her leg, and suddenly she was on the floor. She groaned in pain, the crowd stampeded onward, no one noticed. No one stopped. She could feel the warm, sticky, blood spread on the floor. Forming a small puddle where she lay. The world was spinning. People were screaming. She was screaming. Spinning and spinning, screaming.

Peyton Sawyer reached out for her.

Peyton hadn't run after she saw the gun, she hadn't run when she saw her friend fall. She didn't do that sort of thing. Peyton knew that if she wasn't holding Brooke's hand, then she wouldn't be leaving.

Jimmy saw the chaos ensuing his single gunshot. The panic gave him power. He had done it, he had left his mark on this school. The school where he would die.

Jimmy decided the hell with it. He fired another shot at two cheerleaders down the hall. Ungrateful whores could roast in hell. He pressed his finger to the trigger, lazily raised the gun toward the girls, and fired. Let everyone see. See what happens to those kids you ignore, the ones you don't think about.

Maybe now everyone would just fucking think a little more. See if they could possibly find it in their sorry souls to care.

Jimmy looked down the hall, hoping to see two frightened brats. Instead he saw a bleeding BitchBrooke Davis screaming. Screaming for Peyton Sawyer, who was now lying in her unsteady arms.

A bit further down, if he squinted, he could see Lucas and Nathan Scott.

What had he done?

---

Jimmy's final shot ripped through Peyton's back as she bent over to help Brooke stand. The bullet tore through her skin with no mercy. She was paralyzed instantly as it severed her spinal cord. She fell on top of Brooke.

Brooke, who had been concentrating on standing, jumped when she heard another shot. Everyone else had left. She looked around, no one seemed to be on the ground...

She saw Peyton. She heard Lucas, her boyfriend, screaming. She heard footsteps running, rushing toward Peyton's limp body. The body that was now still on top of her own.

"Peyton! Peyton! Oh, God.. God. Peyton!" She shouted. She screamed. She turned Peyton's body over, looking into her eyes. Peyton was barely breathing.

"It'll... it'll be okay B. Davis," Peyton rasped. Coughing blood onto Brooke's favorite top.

"Oh, God, Peyton no! Oh, God... P. Sawyer." Brooke was sobbing. Tears glistened down her face, ruining her perfect makeup.

Lucas reached Brooke and took Peyton out of her arms, not even stopping to acknowledge his injured girlfriend. He pushed back her golden curls, praying for her to still be simply breathing. He felt the unsteady rise and fall of her chest. The gravity of the situation cascaded over him.

This was it.

"Peyt.." He spoke, softly, with tears in his eyes. How could it end here? In this deserted hallway? Everything he had felt for her, since he could remember. Everything he had ever know, was dying, here. In this lonely hallway.

This wasn't the way Peyton Sawyer was destined to die. Not here, not feeling alone, empty, betrayed, deserted, unknown. She was supposed to be everything. Everything.

"Lucas," She choked, noticing the tears in his eyes. She knew it was bad, but the lost look in Lucas's eyes was too much. She wasn't ready to die.

And he wasn't ready to be without her yet.

Lucas leaned in, even though his girlfriend was right beside him, and whispered a secret into Peyton's ear. A secret that she had every right to know.

"I love you Peyton, and I won't ever let go of that."

The relief of his words showed in her face, and she tried to say it back. Tried so, so hard, but she was too tired. Tired of holding her own head up. Tired of trying to breath. And it hurt.

It hurt so fucking much.

Her lungs were strained, still trying to absorb oxygen. Her body was shutting down. She slowly closed her eyes, tired of looking into the bright, unforgiving light.

Lucas sobbed, clenching her lifeless body in his strong arms. He felt her leave. The Peyton Sawyer he knew was gone. All he had left was the beautiful shell of a girl who had once been everything to him.

Nathan was returning with Haley, after beating Jimmy Edwards unconscious. The SWAT team was running through the school, securing the building. The EMS crew was approaching Lucas, Peyton, and Brooke with caution. All this panic, the confusion, this horrendous situation, was ending in less then ten minutes. It had only taken four of those for Peyton Sawyer to die.

---

**8 Days**

Dan Scott slowly, silently, moved the hairpin inside the lock, waiting for the click. The lock sprung open, and he quietly pushed the door open to the main office of Keith Scott Motors. Inside, Keith was signing off on a few jobs he had done, trying to catch up on paperwork.

The funeral had set him back quite a bit, after all.

"Danny! I didn't see you there, what's up?" Keith asked, springing out of his chair. He didn't know that Dan was coming to visit. Then again, he had been trying to avoid Dan lately, no wonder the guy had to corner him at work.

"It's falling apart Keith," Dan answered enigmatically.

Keith shook his head. Of course everything was falling apart. Lucas was depressed, Brooke was on the verge of being suicidal, Nathan and Haley were at odds, and Jimmy was pending trial. But since when did Dan care about that?

"My life Keith, you're stealing my life, and that isn't how it should be," Dan said, pulling out a gun.

Dan Scott killed Keith Scott eight days after Peyton Sawyer died.

The police declared it a suicide.

**Three Years, Eight Months, and Sixteen Days **

Lucas walked into the kitchen of his childhood, and current, home to find his pretty wife, Brooke Davis-Scott sitting at the kitchen table. For almost four years now, the shadow of guilt had always hung around his wife. Ever since that day that Peyton died.

Everything since had fallen apart. Brooke would go days without speaking, and Lucas would let her. He would hole himself inside his office and write. He would write every thought that came to him. Sometimes the worlds blended together, forming sentences, paragraphs, turned epic romances bought by the masses. The kind where the hero dies, the reader cries, and the world keeps turning.

Sometimes the letters formed nonsensical words, words he created to expressed his agony. Words wound with the connotations of death, misery, failure, and regret. His stories had no hope anymore. Lucas Scott never became a romantic, he was a pessimist. His bile black books were read by the lonely, those looking for something to share their pain with. Those who wondered why.

Lucas's books never provided an answer.

---

**5 Years**

The drugs never worked anymore. These anti-depressants hadn't stopped him from killing that girl, that lonely girl. In the hospital they wouldn't let him eat, drink, sleep or even piss on his own. When he walked into his own, unsupervised, room for the first time, his knees buckled and he cried for the very first time in five years.

Of course the doctors heard him outside the door, and they wondered if they had made the right decision. He needed to let it all go at some point. The road to recovery had to start sooner or later.

He cried for himself, because his life had dwindled down to a 'special reward' room in a mental hospital. He cried for his mother, he never meant to hurt her, he never thought... never thought she would care. He cried for his friends, because no matter what he had thought, they cared. He cried for those he never meant to hurt. He cried for Peyton Sawyer, the girl he never wanted to kill. The girl with the stunning smiling, lovely eyes, golden hair, and chickeny legs. The girl with the brightest future and promise. The talent, the beauty, the soul.

The doctors wouldn't let him see her grave. They said it would be inappropriate. That he should consider the feelings of her friends and family. The doctors didn't know that her almost her whole family was gone, and that her friends consisted of the man she was in love with, and his wife.

They asked why. Why would he want to see her? He didn't know. He wanted to apologize. Say he was sorry.

They wondered what twisted sonofabitchmurderer would go and visit the grave of the person they killed, especially if they were insane. The guy that shot without thought, without feeling, without remorse.

He just wanted to say he was sorry.

He cried, and cried. His knees hurt from being in the same position for so long, and his eyes were dry and tired. Jimmy Edwards took the pills he had been hoarding out of his secret pocket. The one he had made in the lining of his pants.

When it was time for the nurse to bring Jimmy his dinner, she found on him on the floor, with a distinct odor permeating the room, urine, bile, and death.

Jimmy Edwards committed suicide on the 5th anniversary of the Tree Hill High Shooting.

---

"_You wished for it to happen."_

"_I didn't know that everything would fall apart."_

"_How could you?"_

"_I should have known, I guess. I should have known..."_

"_It's okay, Luke."_

"_Yeah, but in another life, everything would have been fine."_

---

**5 Years**

The day that Peyton died, a bit of Lucas had died with her. She grabbed onto bit of his soul when she was in his arms, and took it with her when she passed.

Every year, on this day, it seemed as if the whole town visited the cemetery. Brooke and Lucas would visit, first to see Peyton.

Brooke would place the flowers by her grave, kneel down, and beg, beg, Peyton for forgiveness.

"God P. Sawyer, I miss you. I just... I don't understand how we ended up like this. You were the best of us Peyton, God knows," Brooke said, wiping the tears away with the back of her hand.

Then Lucas would step forward. They never faced Peyton together. He would place his hand on her headstone, the one with her name, and remarkably undescriptive epitaph.

Peyton Sawyer. Beloved daughter and friend.

Except she was so much more.

After he reminded her that he loved her more than anything, his wife, his mother, his brother, he would place a soft kiss on the top of the grave.

Then he would head over to see Lily. The grave with only one date on it.

After Keith died, Karen Roe gave into excessive drinking. She couldn't believe that he would kill himself, she thought he would support her and Lucas through this hard time. Instead he made it harder.

Then she found out she was pregnant, and had been for two months. Six months later Lily was born still.

A week after, Karen Roe was placed in Tree Hill County Mental Hospital. Her room was on the floor above Jimmy's.

Lily Scott's grave was just a short walk away from Peyton Sawyer's.

---

**5 Years, 2 Months, 4 Days**

Lucas looked at the picture frame, the one that captured a moment from his wedding day. Times hadn't exactly been different then, he had just experienced a couple months of forgetting.

On certain days he would admit out loud that they were the happiest months of his life, certain days he would inwardly scold himself for forgetting Peyton for one moment.

Yes, she would have wanted him to be happy, and yes he should move on. But the fact of the matter was that there was nothing for him to move on from.

Lucas was sitting in Nathan's apartment. His brother had lived alone since high school, since his divorce. He mostly sat around, eating and drinking. He had gained weight since high school, since quitting basketball. After Peyton's death he and Haley became distant, not able to cope with the loss together. Nathan lost his drive for the sport. Haley went to college and became the teacher everyone knew she would be. She never sang for anyone again.

The brothers usually sat together once or twice a week in silence, drinking beer and reminiscing. Sometimes Nathan would bring up Peyton. She was the only thing they ever talked about. Otherwise they would spend their time in silence.

"Hey, Luke?"

"Yeah?" He answered, sipping his beer. Knowing that a certain level of intoxication would be necessary for the following conversation.

"Do you ever wonder, or uh... think... about that day? Like what if, what if Peyton hadn't been shot."

Lucas stared down at his drink. Of course he thought about it, but in a different light. "You mean, what if Brooke hadn't been shot."

Nathan gave Lucas a confused look, before remembering that it had been Brooke that was shot. Then Peyton. "Wow. I forgot about her."

"Itssokay. I do it too, sometimes." Lucas dismissed his brothers mistake. No one ever remember how that day went down anymore. Peyton shielded Brooke. Tried to get her out. But that's old news.

---

"_So what do you think is better, Lucas?"_

"_What do you mean?"_

"_I think you know."_

"_I... I hate to see you have to suffer. Why couldn't it be anyone else? Is there any scenario where you don't lie bleeding on a floor?"_

"_Luke, listen. What you need to recognize is that I want to make this sacrifice, for everyone. The school, the students, Jimmy, Keith, your Mom, Lily, Nathan, Haley, Brooke, and especially you. Because we all deserve better than this, and mostly because I Do Love You."_

"_And I love you."_

"_This time Luke, you need to let me save you."_

"_We save each other Peyt, that's how we'll make it work."_

---

Lucas Scott took Peyton Sawyer in his arms, careful not to irritate her wound. She was fading in and out of consciousness. He walked through the hallways as quietly as he could, careful not to spook Jimmy. He was being fairly successful, until he tried to open the door.

Then everything was a blur. Keith arrived, Lucas left, and Peyton was stolen from his arms.

He was relieved that she was being treated, but afraid that he may never see her again. He was frisked by the police, all the while wondering why they weren't inside, saving people like Peyton, people that needed help.

Then there was a gun shot. Keith.

Keith was still inside.

Lucas was being led away when he saw Dan run in. Followed by a second gun shot. Lucas struggled against the authoritative hold on his arms, but it was to not avail. He couldn't change this.

Peyton was hurt, Keith was dead, Dan was a murderer, and poor Jimmy Edwards was misunderstood.

But this is how it had to be, because in the end, everything was a lot better than it could be.

* * *

**A/N: Don't Own.**


End file.
